Page 7 of King of Moon and Claws

“You’re right, Nerys. See that she gets to eat and can relax. I am sorry for your suffering, Miss…”

The king wrinkled his nose. It was an obvious animalistic gesture that translated into something far more endearing in human form. He went on, reprimanding himself.

“I’m sorry I haven’t asked your name.”

“My name is Elora Dahill.”

He mulled it over and smiled, a polite but beautiful sight.

“That is a lovely name,” he murmured.

Elora was quickly shuffled away by Nerys. Despite her exhaustion, Elora felt like she wanted to sit and speak with him. Though she was having trouble finding the words in her mind, she thought he could help her find them.

“Come along then, Elora. We are going to the guest room where you can rest. We will have food and fittings ready for you.”

The guest room wasn’t far from where they’d exited the kitchen and was rather generous in size. She had expected something ramshackle compared to a king’s quarters, but instead, it appeared to be fit for royalty itself.

Elora had very little energy to absorb the pomp of the guest space. Nerys guided her to the bed and slowly laid her down, helping her lift her feet from the ground to rest on the mattress. Elora felt like she was floating and quickly sank into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, she was greeted once again by the succulent scent of chicken soup and freshly baked bread. There was also clothing hanging by the closest knobs, a similar shade to the robe that had adorned the king. She was nearly nude from her grime-crusted, tattered clothing but didn’t mind since Nerys had the gentle touch of a woman who was likely a matron at some point in her life.

Elora ate ravenously despite the attempt to slow herself. The food went down fast, hot, and beyond delicious. When her belly was full, she stood from the bed and pulled on one of the housecoats that waited for her. The material was like nothing she’d ever seen. It wasn’t exactly silk or satin, but something in between.

A knock came at the door. Elora told the visitor to come in, her heart sneaking up her throat for a moment as she considered the presence of the king.

It was only Nerys, though. Elora tried to veil her disappointment.

“You are looking well!” Nerys said. “Some color is coming to your pretty face. I like to see that. What else can I do for you, Elora?”

Elora gazed down at her dirt-stained hands and arms. She wondered if they had tubs or showers in this place.

“I should probably bathe before I see the king again,” Elora said. “Is there a particular way to… bathe?”

Nerys's eyes lit up.

“The king has offered his private bath to you. It is a pool-sized hot spring with a waterfall. It’s a paradise. I wouldn’t pass this up if I were you.”

Elora heard something in the tone of her assigned servant, but she agreed anyway. When would she have the opportunity to bathe in a hot spring in a king’s castle again? She almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

“It is truly like a dream in there,” Nerys said.

“I bet it is,” she said. Elora followed, carrying some of the extravagant clothing that had been provided for her. Everything had changed so quickly, but she was going with it. What choice did she have?

She simply did not have enough strength to resist. Whether she gave in to the prodding of the servant or her desire for the attention of the handsome king, she wasn’t sure.

FIVE

BASTIAN

The sight of Elora’s naked body at the hot spring nearly sent the king into a frenzy. It greatly varied in intensity compared to the variety of women he’d bedded as royalty. With them, ownership was instantaneous. He was the king, and he got exactly what he wanted when he wanted it.

But Elora wasn’t just some concubine or mistress. His wolf reminded him that Elora was his mate – her acceptance mattered. Her enjoyment was of the utmost importance.

Not that he took advantage of women in general. He always made sure they were satiated. But that mostly had to do with his ego. A woman sleeping with the king had to have the most remarkable experience of her lifetime.

On the opposing side of the coin was his mate’s potential rejection of him. He couldn’t force her or sway her with promises of rubies or diamonds or notoriety the way he could with other women. Frankly, the effort with those women was minimal at most. Going to bed with a king would be the highlight of their entire existence.

He stood in the shadows of the hot springs, the rippling of the water echoing against the marble walls as Elora submerged her nude form. She groaned with delight. Bastian was jealous of the water and the way it surrounded the contours of her body.

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